


It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

by quillingyousoftly



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bachelor Party, Drugs, Groom Brock Rumlow, Infidelity, M/M, Making Out, Non-Explicit Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, WIP, Wedding Planner Jack Rollins, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26062780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillingyousoftly/pseuds/quillingyousoftly
Summary: Ever since Brock's rich boyfriend proposed to him, Brock has been living a dream... until his Best Man hired his ex-friend with benefits as his wedding planner.
Relationships: Brock Rumlow/Tony Masters, Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 22





	1. No one could save me but you

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something vastly different from fics like The Weight of Pain or even Dark Places. I took a step away from angst and decided to write something light with short chapters. It won't be all fluff and comfort, though, expect some drama and emotional turmoil ;)
> 
> I have only two chapters written, so things like rating, tags or even the title might change in time.
> 
> Background relationships are:  
> Pepper Potts/Tony Stark  
> Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson  
> Wanda Maximoff/Vision  
> To avoid confusion, Tony Masters will be referred to as Tony; Tony Stark will be referred to as Stark.

Brock takes off his flip-flops and stands on the fine sand. It sneaks in between his toes as he takes a couple steps towards the calm sea. The late morning sun warms his back. A couple of seagulls land on the empty beach and walk along the shore until a larger wave hitting the ground scares them away. Drops of water hit Brock's skin, and he smiles.

"I don't know, Brock," he hears Pepper's voice from behind. "I think it's too small."

"You said you were only inviting fifty people?" Jack checks the notes on his clipboard to make sure. "It should be big enough. Of course, we have more venues to see, bigger ones, too."

"There's no bar. Brock wanted a bar," Pepper argues.

"There's a tiki bar on the beach," Jack points out.

Soft footsteps sound behind him, and a presence appears on his left; he doesn't need to look to know it's Bucky.

"What do you think?" he asks quietly. Brock knows he's watching him, but doesn't tear his eyes away from the frothy waves.

"It's perfect," he replies softly with a note of awe.

He hears Bucky smile. "The first venue we're seeing and it's already perfect?"

"It's exactly what I wanted," Brock explains, finally looking up at Bucky. His hair flows in the wind, frizzed from the humid air. "To get married on a beach as beautiful as this one."

"There are plenty of beautiful beaches with venues that would be more to Pepper's taste," Bucky says, and Brock doesn't miss amusement laced into his voice. He can't blame him; he's not usually this romantic. But the closer the wedding date, the more sappy he becomes.

Maybe he's always been this way, only now he feels safe enough to let himself be open about it.

"It's not Pepper getting married," he says, his voice becoming a little sharper. He should be the one making decisions here, not Pepper, even if his aren't always reasonable. He turns around and shows a thumbs up. "I like this one, Jack!" The smile he sends him is genuine, which in itself is a small success.

Jack smiles back and writes a quick note on his clipboard. "We still have five more to see. I'd hate for you to miss out on something better. Maybe your fiance will have a different preference."

"Speaking of." Done walking around the venue, Pepper approaches the three of them. "Where  _ is _ your fiance, Brock? Shouldn't he be joining us right about now?"

Brock's thankful for the sunglasses shielding him from her penetrating gaze. "He got held up at work. He moved his flight for tomorrow," he answers, careful to keep emotion out of his voice.

Pepper raises one perfect eyebrow. "You're kidding me."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jack pretend to reread his notes, the look on his face grim.

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Brock says easily like he already rehearsed it. In a way, he did. Apologizing for his fiance's absence was a common occurrence. "I got the text just before we came here. Y'all were preoccupied with judging the venue."

Pepper wrinkles her nose. "It's not that, it's just..." She sighs exasperatedly, shaking her head. " _ I  _ took a vacation for this. My boss wasn't happy, but he understood. He's the  _ groom.  _ Don't tell me he didn't get a vacation for planning his own wedding."

"Your boss is your husband," Brock points out. "Tony will be here tomorrow. I don't see why it's such a big deal."

Jack clears his throat. "If we wanna be on time for seeing the next venue, we should be on our way."

Pepper follows him, but she continues talking. "It's not. But he should be here."

"Pepper, here's the tiki bar." Jack points at a small wooden bar set up on the beach. "Did you see it? What do you think?"

"I think Brock wanted one  _ inside _ ."

As Pepper goes on a rant about bars, Brock nudges Jack's hand. "Thanks," he murmurs.

Jack's wink makes his heartbeat kick up, and he hopes it doesn't show. "With all her sniffing, you'd think she was the bride."

He lets Pepper and Bucky overtake him as he falls in step with Brock. Brock can smell his cologne from this close, fresh but spicy. Just like his personality, he muses. 

"She's a CEO, she's used to having everything under control. You need to forgive her."

"Oh, I don't mind," Jack says with an easy smile. "I handle bridezillas daily. You're my best client so far." 

Brock does feel his face warm now, but thankfully Jack chooses this moment to circle his car to the driver's seat. Brock goes for the backseat, so Pepper rides shotgun.

Seeing all the venues takes them the entire day, and at the end of it, Brock still likes the first one the most. Pepper prefers the third one, with a thin strip of beach and a large, lush garden. As they walked around it, she made it clear she'd prefer Brock to say 'yes' to Tony on a solid ground than sand.

"I'm just saying," she repeats now as a server brings a tray with a Mimosa and two Long Island Iced Teas to their table in a pub's well-lit garden. "Even if we're fully dressed, it'll get  _ everywhere. _ "

"At least your ass is safe," Bucky says, sliding his Long Island closer to himself. "There's no place for sand with that long fucking stick in it."

Brock shouldn't snort. But he can't help it.

"Rude remark aside, it would be physically possible," Pepper says, clearly a little offended. "Sand's so fine it'll always find a way."

"I liked the fifth one," Bucky changes the topic. "It had a big dance floor, a bar inside, and it was elegant enough for a chocolate fountain to fit right in. Not to mention the rooms upstairs. It'd be comfortable to stay the night at the venue instead of taking cabs to some hotel."

"You wanted a chocolate fountain, too, Brock?" Jack asks from above his notes. "I only have a champagne one noted."

Bucky looks at Brock wide-eyed. "You remembered the champagne fountain for Pepper, but not the chocolate one for me?"

Pepper smirks at the hurt in his voice. Brock waves him off. 

"Sorry. Let's add that and a vodka one for Pietro while we're at it, why not."

Jack glances up to make sure he's not joking, then writes it down.

"I'm sure Wanda would like a shrimp fountain," Pepper says.

As she and Bucky discuss the importance of a shrimp fountain and Wanda's preferences, Brock nudges Jack's elbow. "You sure you don't want a drink?"

"Not on the job," Jack replies, still writing something.

"It's ten. I think your work hours ended a while ago."

Jack drops his pen with a sigh. "I guess. I just want your wedding to be perfect."

The night is tropical, but the warmth blooming in Brock's chest has nothing to do with that. "Thanks. I really appreciate it. But you can kick back and relax now. We'll pick it up tomorrow. It's Mint Julep, right?"

He calls for the server and orders the drink. Jack offers a grateful smile. 

"Thanks, Brock."

"Well, Wanda's plane lands tomorrow," Pepper says, looking into her phone. "We'll ask her then."

A server sets a Mint Julep in front of Jack, and he raises it. "To the groom."

"To the most handsome groom on the planet!" Bucky raises his glass, grinning.

Pepper and Brock follow suit, then clink their glasses and drink.


	2. Miss you so bad

_ My flight was delayed. I'll probably land around midnight. _

_ Sorry, baby. _

Brock tries to get back to sleep, but he keeps reaching for his phone to stare at the texts, like he expects them to disappear. His hotel room becomes gradually brighter as the sun shows its crown above the horizon. He sighs and decides to get up despite the clock showing only five.

It was a warm night, the morning is even warmer, and Brock finds himself unbuttoning his short-sleeved shirt as he walks down the beach bare-footed. The sand is cooler than he expected; must be the morning sea breeze. He spots a lone surfer riding the waves and he sits down to watch him and the sunrise, enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet.

The bottom of the sun's orange disc is barely touching the horizon when the surfer wades out of the water onto the beach, carrying his board under his arm. He shakes water out of his ears and long, blond hair. He grins when he spots Brock and waves before approaching him.

"Trouble sleeping?" he asks and drops down beside him.

Brock studies his profile, his wet hair that already starts curling from the humid air, the droplets of seawater running down his throat. He realizes with a start he's staring and he looks up only to find Jack watching him, too.

"I like the new hair," Jack says with a beam.

Brock runs his hand through said hair, only combed back with a little gel this early in the morning. He has tried to follow the trends even before he scored a rich fiance, but now his barber makes sure he always keeps up.

"Thanks. Yours didn't change at all."  _ Jack _ didn't change at all.

"Why change something I like?"

Jack's bright smile becomes too much to look at, and Brock averts his eyes. "It felt good to see you again," he admits quietly. There are so many more things he wants to say. ‘I wish Bucky chose someone else to plan this wedding.’ ‘I missed you.’ But none of them matter.

"Same here." But there's something wistful in Jack's voice, and he sighs. "But seriously, what are you doing here? You must be the first tourist on the beach today."

"I'm not a tourist, I'm a groom," Brock reminds him, and he sounds much more grumpy about it than he expected. 

"Ah. Did Tony arrive already? Where's he now?"

"His flight was delayed," Brock says in as emotionless a voice as possible. 

Jack hums quietly, and a moment of silence falls between them. When Brock chances a glance at him, he finds Jack watching the waves.

"I think we can handle choosing decorations without him for now," he says finally. "There'll still be time to change them if he doesn't like it. I'd love to discuss them with you right here, but I left all my notes at the office. Ready to join me?"

It's nearing six on Brock's Rolex, and his brain protests at the prospect of working so early in the day, but that's exactly what he came here to do. He'll rest properly on the honeymoon. Besides, choosing decorations just with Jack's help and without Pepper's constant complaints? It's too good an opportunity to turn it down.

"Sure," he says, and they get up, brushing the sand off their clothes, though it still sticks to Jack's wet surfing suit when they leave the beach. "I could use some breakfast and coffee, though." 

"I need to make a stop at mine to change and leave my board, anyway. Remember that bakery down the street?" Brock feels his face warm up as he nods in confirmation. "Pick up some pastries and coffee for us, and I'll join you soon."

Wordlessly, Brock walks Jack to his little beach house, then continues down the street alone until he reaches the bakery. Nostalgia hits him as he walks inside; just like Jack, the place hasn’t changed at all. The walls are warm browns, the tables small but wooden and solid. Brock and Jack had spent so many mornings here recovering from all-nighters. 

He approaches the pastries display and takes it in; there's much more to choose from than he remembers. He's deciding whether to get the croissants he knows Jack likes or get adventurous and try pretzels he hasn't seen here before when the cashier greets him.

"And what'll be for you?" she asks with a wide smile. Brock recognizes her; her strong coffee had saved him too many times to count. 

"I'll have two frappuccinos and..." he trails off, eyeing the pastries.

"Four croissants?" she offers. "Hi, Brock. I thought you ditched us for another bakery."

Brock chuckles a little nervously, but he's glad she remembers him, too. "Hey, Ashley. No, I mean... I kinda did, but only because I moved out."

Ashley stops in her tracks and gapes at him. "You did?! I can't believe Jack didn't tell me!"

Brock becomes nervous again at the mention of Jack and simply shrugs with his hands in his pockets. Ashley rings him up and packs his croissants, then tells him to wait at the table for the coffees, which he does. Jack enters the bakery, dressed in shorts and a rather tight tank top, just when Ashley brings two iced plastic cups to Brock.

"Oh, there you are!" she says cheerfully at the sight of him. "Does it mean you guys are back together?"

Brock chokes on his spit and tries not to cough too much. While he's busy with that, Jack responds coolly, "I'm planning his wedding."

Ashley looks shocked for a split second, then realizes her mistake and turns to Brock, who's finally gained his breath back. "Oh, congratulations!" Her cheerful tone is definitely fake this time. "I need to get back to work! Toodles!"

She runs away to the backroom, and Brock, clearing his throat, hands Jack his frappuccino.

“Thanks. How much do I owe you?” Jack asks, his usual smile gone, and it makes Brock’s heart sink.

“Nothing, my treat,” he mumbles.

As they walk out on the already sunny street, Brock wishes he had taken his sunglasses if only to hide away from all this awkwardness. Jack doesn't address what just happened, and as soon as they enter his small, stuffy office, he gets straight to business. It’s clear the run-in with Ashley has ruined his mood.

"Please, help yourself." He waves at the brochures stacked on his desk on his way to open the widow. "We should still be able to catch a bit of wind before noon."

Brock decides it's best to leave the topic and takes the brochure on the very top, advertising sky lanterns.

"Oh, did you want those?" Jack asks when he notices. He walks over to his desk and starts looking for something. "Where did I leave them...?"

"No," Brock says quickly, then reconsiders it. "I mean... I don't know. I never thought about it."

"You're getting married on the beach; I think they'd look beautiful," Jack offers. He finally finds his notes and sits down behind his desk. "But I think we should focus on the basics for now. I take it you haven't decided on the venue yet?"

"No, but I narrowed it down to two."

"So, did you think of the theme?"

Brock hasn't; he isn't sure if he wants a themed wedding. His only idea is the beach; Bucky hired Jack to take care of the rest.

Jack eyes him from above his notes. "I think this is the perfect opportunity to throw a sea themed wedding. The main color would be blue, we'd put shells everywhere, and flowers..." He frowns. "What flowers would you like?"

Brock sips on his frappuccino, wishing it was champagne. Planning anything without Pepper by his side feels like such a stupid idea now. 

"There's... so much to choose from," he admits. "I need to consult it with my wedding party."

"Sure," Jack replies quickly, like he expected this kind of answer. "Let's take this one step at the time. Take a look at those—" He picks a few brochures and drops them into Brock's hands— "and let me know what you like. I'll send you a couple moodboards later today, how does that sound?"

Like a disaster in the making.

"Great. Thanks." Brock stands up, the brochures in one hand and his coffee in another. "I, uh... Thanks."

Jack nods at him with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "See you later."

Brock practically rushes out of the building, and only takes a breath when he's nearing his hotel. 


	3. This could be Heaven or Hell

"I can't believe I came before Pepper!" 

Brock puts his fork down and turns around to watch an excited Bucky approach his table. He swallows the bite of pasta he has been chewing to reply.

"She went to pick up Wanda from the airport. They should be here soon."

Bucky pauses at the table, looking around, and Brock feels his stomach clench when he realizes he must be looking for a sign of Tony.

"Uh, Tony's flight was delayed," he says before Bucky even asks. "He'll be here tomorrow."

Bucky takes a seat beside him with a small frown, but doesn't comment on it, to Brock's relief. He can always count on Bucky being careful not to upset him.

They small talk and order more food and drinks as they wait for their friends to join them. They can hear Wanda chat excitedly even before she enters the tasteful little cafe hidden away from the tourists on the outskirts of the city. She lets out an excited little squeal at the sight of Brock, and he stands up to hug her.

"Congratulations!" she sing-songs, taking off her big Gucci sunglasses and throwing her arms around his neck. Her many bracelets and pendants jingle as she rocks in his embrace.

"Thanks. It's good to see you, Wanda."

As he lets go of her, he catches Pepper's cold gaze sweeping the table. Blue eyes finally rest on him, but before she can open her mouth, Brock snaps, "His flight was delayed. Take it up with him, not with me."

"Wanda's wasn't delayed," she points out.

"Oh, I came here straight from the Psychic and Holistic Fair in Dallas!" Wanda rests her hand on Pepper's arm. "And I'm sorry, darling, but you're ruining all the positive vibrations! This is a cheerful time for Brock, we should celebrate!"

Pepper sighs. "Fine." She drops down on the chair on the other side of Brock with her arms crossed over her chest and looks around for a waiter. 

Wanda winks at Brock, and he sends her a grateful smile.

"Now that you're quite through with causing a scene." Bucky looks from Wanda to Pepper, and Brock doesn't miss the way his gaze hardens for a second before it softens again as he turns to him. "I believe Brock needs our help."

"Right." Brock takes the brochures Jack gave him out of his backpack and hands them to Bucky. He hasn't looked through them yet; he's been too nervous. "I need to choose the decor. Jack suggested a sea themed wedding, but I don't—"

"Oh, you must have a sea themed wedding!" Wanda bounces in her seat, and Brock can't help but smile. "You could have an all-seafood buffet!"

Pepper snorts. "It's a wonder you didn't have a seafood theme."

"I wish I had thought of it," Wanda says with a small pout. "I liked Vis's diamond theme idea too much to put more thought into this." 

"It was a beautiful wedding," Pepper agrees with a smile. "Not as beautiful as my fairytale wedding—" she trails off with a yelp followed by a laugh as Wanda pokes her hard between the ribs.

"Or you could follow in my footsteps and have a simple wedding," Bucky offers, leafing through a brochure.

"You mean besides the part where you rented an historic palace as your venue and hired an actual orchestra as the band?" Brock teases.

"Yeah, well." Bucky shrugs with a smile, and his eyes become a little misty at the memory. "It was perfect even without a theme."

A waiter comes with their drinks. He sets a mimosa in front of everyone, and Pepper adjusts herself in her seat. 

"Point is, Brock," she says as the waiter walks away, "you have options, and we'd all already been through this. Your wedding is in good hands."

Brock's phone vibrates in his pocket, and he takes it out excitedly, expecting it to be Tony. But it's an email notification.

"Jack sent me some moodboards," he announces. He opens the first attachment and feels his breath catch in his throat.

Shades of blue dominate in the pictures. There are seashells and roses, candles and light strings above the long tables set up on the beach. It's everything Brock didn't know he wanted, and he passes the phone to show it around a little reluctantly. Bucky doesn't say anything as he looks it over then passes it to Wanda; Wanda says it's all pretty, then Pepper admits it's a good start.

"I see he sent you shades to choose from," she says, scrolling through the email. Brock holds his breath; he hasn't read it yet. What if Jack included something personal in there? "You should pick  _ at least _ two. Three would be optimal."

Wanda peeks over her shoulder. "Oh, Salted Egg and Tosca are so pretty!"

"They're too green. You should go with blues, Brock. Baby blue, Lagoon..." She scrunches up her nose. "I guess you could pick Mint if you really wanted."

"Can I see for myself?" 

Brock snatches his phone from Pepper's grasp and scans the email. He should be relieved to see Jack only discussed business in it, so why is it disappointment he feels? He scrolls back to the shades list, and must admit Pepper's are all good choices.

"Alright, I'll write him back." 

He walks outside to avoid anyone peeking over his shoulder and chews his lip for a moment as he considers his reply. Then he types,

_ I love it. Let's do all of them.  _

He stares at it, aware it's incredibly short, then thinks,  _ fuck it _ and taps send. He doesn't wait long for a response.

_ You mean... 3 differently set tables? _

Brock can't help but smile.

_ I like baby blue, lagoon, and light blue for the roses. Do with that what you will. I know it'll be perfect; you really know what you're doing. _

He's smiling until he reads Jack's reply; then it fades as his heart sinks a little.

_ I'd say. I've been in this business for two years now, I've got my fair share of experience. _

Two years. It's how long he's known Tony. Two years ago he graduated and moved away to be with him, leaving Jack and all the fun they'd had together behind. Maybe a part of himself, too, a part that was carefree and... happy.

He shakes his head at himself; he  _ is _ happy. He's with a rich, handsome, caring man that wants to marry him, which is exactly the life he had planned for himself all those years ago when he was leaving the dirty and smelly streets of Bronx behind. It doesn't get happier than that.

He pockets his phone and returns to his friends; Wanda is downing her second drink and is already dancing in her chair to jazz playing quietly in the background. She lights up at the sight of him.

"Now that that issue's handled, we should go to the beach!" Her body's still swaying this way and that, jingling with too many accessories. "I didn't fly all the way here to waste away in a stuffy cafe!"

Pepper actually smiles and turns to Brock. "She has a point."

"The beach it is."

His friends get up, cheering, but Brock's own smile is a little forced as he follows them onto the sunny street.


	4. ...There you are!

The sand is smooth beneath his feet, the sea calm and quiet by his side. The small waves reflect the silver light of the full moon. Brock breathes in deeply, smelling the sea breeze.

A lone man stands on the beach, and Brock's heart speeds up; he can't wait to reach him. Barely he thinks that, he's already beside him, and Jack's turning his way with a bright smile. They sit down, Jack's arm sneaking around Brock's shoulders, and look up at the stars, so clear and so many in the dark sky. 

"It doesn't feel real," Brock says with a little embarrassed smile. "I only ever saw a sky like that in movies."

"Oh yeah?" Jack leans in, surrounding Brock in a minty smell of his cologne. His nose almost touches Brock's cheek. "What can I do to make it feel real?"

Brock's holding his breath when he turns to look up into Jack's green eyes. They glimmer in the bright moonlight like a pair of emeralds. He reaches out and rests his hand on Jack's chest, warm and moving with his breaths. He can feel his heartbeat inside, fast, strong, and matching his own. He runs his hand down his muscular chest and after a moment of hesitation, Jack does the same to him, making his skin tingle under his clothes wherever he touches.

There's a noise somewhere behind him, a movement that startles him. He stirs and attempts to pull himself up. Only then he realizes he's not sitting on a beach but lying in a warm bed, tangled in the sheets. A man is standing at his bed, and he wants to call out to Jack, but he realizes it can't be him. 

"Tony?" 

He turns on a bedside lamp, and peers up at Tony, squinting. His baggy eyes and tousled hair make him look tired, but his smile is absolutely delighted.

"Hey, princess," he greets, and Brock's too sleepy to get irritated at the pet name. He checks the time on his phone; it's past one. "Sorry for waking you, but I didn't wanna get an elbow to the face."

"You could call me, I'd pick you up," Brock says, watching his fiance strip for bed. 

"And ruin your beauty sleep? We wouldn't want that."

Tony smells faintly of vodka when he slips under the covers beside Brock; surely he drank on the plane. He's never been quite comfortable flying, despite traveling for work a lot. Brock tries to discreetly turn away even as Tony kisses his neck.

"So one sleepless night would make me look ugly? Is that what you're saying?" he teases.

"All I'm saying is I can get myself off the airport like a big boy." Tony buries his face in Brock's neck with a sigh, his arm curling around his waist. "I'm beat. Let's talk in the morning."

"Sure, goodnight."

Brock tries to relax in Tony's embrace, but after the dream he just had, it doesn’t feel safe and comfortable anymore, but oppressive. He can't help to think back to the times when it was Jack's bed he was sleeping in, Jack's body pressed against his. His stupid dream made him yearn for that again. Why? It's not like Jack has anything Tony doesn't; quite the opposite.

Maybe he's just missed Jack. He reaches for his phone and scrolls through the emails they exchanged last night until they fell asleep. They mainly discussed the wedding, but even despite that, Brock couldn't get enough of him. Maybe because Jack hadn't been just a fling, but also a good friend. Brock was the one who cut ties; he couldn't imagine pursuing Tony while still keeping in touch with Jack, it wouldn't have been possible. But it didn't mean it wasn't hard for him. Learning to stop thinking of Jack every waking moment, to stop comparing Tony to him, to stop fantasizing about sex with him when he was touching himself, took him a year. Moving away helped, as did surrounding himself with new friends who raised their status by marrying well. Pepper and Wanda's perfect lives motivated him to forget about Jack, so did his childhood friend Bucky's marriage to a celebrity psychotherapist, Sam Wilson. Eventually, Jack faded to a dream-like memory, an old fantasy, and Brock didn't expect him in his life again.

Until Bucky's fateful announcement: "I found you a wedding planner."

And now, all his emotions buried somewhere deep within are flooding back. He's been putting away thinking about it, but Tony and Jack are about to meet tomorrow, and Brock doesn't know how to act. He feels like hiding somewhere far away and let everybody else handle the planning for a while without him. But he can't do that, and his sunglasses will have to do.

He must fall asleep at some point, because he doesn't notice when the morning comes. Their hotel room is filled with sunlight when Tony wakes him up with kisses. He looks better now after a night's sleep; his skin feels cool and clean, and the ends of his hair are damp from the shower. His energy is also back, if the way he says good morning to Brock is any indication. Brock lets him, but his heart isn't in it, and it frustrates him. He's missed Tony, his touch, his warmth. Tony's always known how to make him feel good, and today isn't an exception. It's Brock's fault; his thoughts gravitate towards Jack, and try as he might, he can't quite focus on Tony's ministrations even as he brings him to climax.

And, of course, Tony notices.

"What's wrong?" he asks, half his body still draped over Brock's, his lips against Brock's neck.

_ I think I still have feelings for my ex-friend with benefits who also happens to be our wedding planner. _ Of course, Brock can't say that, so he resigns himself to a half-truth.

"It's been stressful, having to plan without you." 

"Are you mad at me?" Tony presses a kiss to the most sensitive spot on Brock's neck, making it tingle. "I'm sorry, babe. But I'm here now, not going anywhere."

Brock's stomach sinks, and he realizes he doesn't believe him. There's always something; he gets a text or a call, makes that face he always does when he's oh so terribly sorry, packs his suitcase and leaves on another business trip. Brock's not even sure what he does for a living exactly; it didn't matter all that much when Tony would leave him with a couple of credit cards he could buy anything he wished for with. And he was never truly alone; Bucky, Pepper, and Wanda were always down to meet up and party or relax. But now, Brock really needs his strong, reassuring presence by his side.

"Hey." Tony picks himself up on his elbow to see Brock's face. He coaxes him to look up with a soft hand on his cheek. "What is it?"

Brock sighs. "I just know you'll leave again. You always do, even when we're supposed to be on vacation. And I tried to be okay with that. But we're not on vacation now, we're here for our wedding. It's important we plan it together."

Tony leans in to kiss him softly on the lips. "I really don't plan on leaving, but you're right, work has a tendency to surprise me. I promise I'll try to reschedule everything that's not absolutely urgent, okay? And even if I end up going on another short trip, anything you plan on your own will be perfect. I want this to be  _ your _ dream wedding. I'll love whatever you decide that is."

Brock rolls his eyes. "Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because it didn't."

"How about chocolate chip pancakes with strawberries and champagne for breakfast? Will that make you feel better?"

Brock smiles despite himself. Bribing him with food and champagne always works. Tony smiles back and sits up to call for room service.


	5. Can't help but want you

When nearing the high-end bakery, Brock seeks out Tony's hand for a boost of confidence. He can see a small crowd of his friends already waiting for them at the entrance, and despite shielding himself with his trusted Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses, he doesn't feel quite ready to face them. To face _Jack_. Tony squeezes his hand and glances at him, smirking smugly, which must be the only way he smiles in public. Brock tries to mirror it, but he's unsure if he's not grimacing instead.

Having spotted them, Pepper ends her phone conversation and waves at them. "Hello, Masters," she says politely enough, if a little coolly. "Long time no see."

Jack walks over next, smiling brightly and extending his hand. "Jack Rollins. Nice to finally meet you in person."

"Anthony Masters," Tony replies, shaking Jack's hand with his left, his right still tightly wrapped around Brock's. "Shall we?"

He leads the way inside the bakery where he introduces himself, and they're shown to the luxuriously designed but small tasting room. The air smells of vanilla and sugar, and Brock feels his mouth water.

"What's up with Pepper's Snow Queen act?" Tony mutters when they're both out of earshot. "Is everyone mad at me for working my ass off to afford your dream wedding?"

Brock can't help but roll his eyes; he's not a stranger to manipulation, and he's careful to never fall for it. It must be one of his qualities that keep Tony interested. "Just her, a little. I'm not mad, just disappointed."

Tony nods thoughtfully. "Remind me to buy you another bottle."

Brock smiles even when he wants to roll his eyes again. Tony smiles back, that genuine smile that's reserved only for him, before slipping back into his air of smugness.

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting." A baker walks in, making them look up. "Please, sit down."

Brock, Tony, Bucky, and Jack sit at a round table with samples already spread out on it, while Pepper and Wanda take another, smaller one. 

"I prepared the two flavors you chose from my menu." She gestures at two small round cakes. "Blue Velvet and Blue Champagne—"

"I'm fairly sure I picked Pink Champagne," Tony interrupts.

"Uh, yeah, but we chose color blue for the wedding," Jack's quick to explain. "I'm sorry, I thought I mentioned that in my email."

Tony's lips purse, and Brock squeezes his hand before he snaps something nasty back. He only relaxes when Tony’s shoulders sag in defeat.

"I assure you Mr Masters, it tastes exactly like Pink Champagne, the only difference is the blue food coloring," the baker says, her smile not slipping off her lips for a second. "Next we have the traditional vanilla and coconut and lime we always serve at the tasting."

She starts cutting the small cakes and handing out the plates, which causes enough distraction for Tony to lean in and whisper against Brock's ear, "What do you think of him?"

Brock follows his gaze to Jack accepting a plate with a thin piece of ocean blue cake layered with white buttercream frosting and wills his cheeks not to go pink. "He's doing okay, why?"

"I don't know, he feels..." Tony nods at the clipboard set in Jack's lap, and Brock understands. "Not up-to-date." 

"He's great at what he does." Even Brock doesn't expect his sharper tone. "He takes care of _everything,_ Tony, I'd be losing my fucking mind without him."

Tony gives him a bemused look. "Even more than you already do?"

Brock elbows him in the side and picks up one of the plates that have been set before him. This cake is navy with pale blue frosting, and when Brock takes a bite, he tastes a strong champagne flavor with lighter notes of coconut and vanilla. He feeds the next bite to Tony.

"Here, your champagne cake," he says, hoping the large bite will make him shut up for a second. "And besides, I think the clipboard is more romantic than a tablet," he adds in a quieter voice. He glances at Jack again just to find his green eyes looking back. His cheeks do turn pink this time as he realizes Jack’s just watched him feed Tony cake. He promptly looks away just in time to catch Tony lick icing off his lips. 

"Should I use a clipboard?" he teases, waggling his eyebrows.

Brock has been looking forward to cake testing, but he suddenly wishes he was somewhere else. Like the moonlit, serene beach from his dream, where he's not sitting between Jack and Tony, there's just one of them with his warm hands on Brock's body, bright eyes looking at him warmly.

Too bad he can't decide which one he'd like to be there with him.

He stuffs his face with another piece, white vanilla one this time, and shakes his head to himself subtly; he's already made his choice all those years ago. Fooling around with Jack ended the moment Tony started feeling serious about him. It was always supposed to be this way—marrying well was Brock's goal, still is, and Jack was just for fun. They both knew it, Brock never hid it from him or let himself get too attached. Or so he thought at the time...

"They're all delicious!" Wanda's high-pitched exclamation cuts through Brock's thoughts like a knife, and he tunes back in to the conversation taking place in the room. "How are we supposed to pick just one?"

"You don't need to," the baker says. "It's not uncommon to pick a different flavor for every layer. How many layers do you plan on having?"

"Three." Tony's already tasting his last piece. "We're not having that many guests." He sets down the plate with a barely touched coconut and lime cake. "I think we should go for the Pink— _Blue_ Champagne, babe. It has the strong, luxurious flavor that suits you." He sends Brock the same seductive smile he uses whenever he wants something.

Brock hesitates. He’s weak for that smile, but… 

"I don't know, I really like Blue Velvet."

"You don't need to decide now. We have another tasting scheduled for tomorrow," Jack reminds them. When Brock turns to face him, he finds him watching them warily, but he promptly smiles when met with Brock's eyes.

"I've also prepared a brochure with designs." The baker hands Brock a heavy book, which he opens right away. "I picked one that fits your wedding theme the most."

Pepper and Wanda get up from their seats and stand behind him to watch the designs over his shoulder. Jack moves away to make space for a curious Bucky.

Most of the designs are flowery, but the more pages Brock turns, the more sea-like they become, and soon they're watching cakes decorated with chocolate seashells, starfish, and even seahorses.

"Oh!" Wanda exclaims at the sight of a cake that looks like a glittery shrimp cocktail.

"Wanda, this is atrocious," Pepper hisses, mindful to not be heard by the baker, and Brock can't help but snort.

He turns the page and pauses, taking in the picture of a masterfully sculptured sandcastle adorned with seashells, little starfish, and pearls. He immediately knows he wants it.

"That one's very pretty, Brock," Pepper says.

Tony takes the book from Brock's hands. "This is fondant. You said you didn't want our cake to have it."

"I usually put a layer of buttercream under the fondant, so it still tastes good," the baker chimes in.

Tony turns the book around to show her. "Can you make something similar without fondant?" The baker hesitates, and before she can answer, Tony turns the page. "So I thought. Besides, it wouldn't look this good with just three layers. Let's find something better than this."

And Brock knows Tony's right, and they should consider everything the bakery has to offer, but his heart still sinks a little. He feels Bucky's hand on his shoulder, and though he makes it look like he's just leaning in to see the brochure better, Brock knows it's not an accident. He has Bucky's support no matter if he's right or wrong, and his gratefulness for that quells the sadness a little.

"Well, we have a lot to think about." Tony closes the book and hands it to Brock to hold on to. "Thank you very much for your time, Ms Vang." The baker nods. Tony turns to Brock's wedding party. "Shall we?"

Leaving the bakery, Brock feels as if there's a heavy ball of ice in his stomach, and even stepping onto the sunny street doesn't warm him up. He puts on his sunglasses to hide any negative emotion that might show on his face.

"That was fun!" Wanda comments. "We should do something even more fun now! Let's get drinks!"

"Lead the way," Tony says in agreement.

"If you don't mind," Jack chimes in with an apologetic smile. "I'll get going. I have a meeting with another couple in a few hours."

"Sure, you're dismissed." Tony waves him off. 

Jack shakes hands with the wedding party. Watching him leave makes Brock feel even colder.

Maybe a Flaming Sambuca will help with that.


	6. Not gonna get away

Despite the sun having hidden below the horizon, the air is still heavy and warm. The bonfire heats Brock's face, and the booze he's drinking chases away the cold that made itself at home in his insides.

They're on their hotel's private beach, empty now that it's gotten dark. Brock and Pepper are sitting in beach chairs, sipping on wine straight from the bottle. He's unsure if it's still champagne or if they just grabbed whatever was available in the wine bar, but at this point, he's not complaining. Bucky's sitting on the bare sand with a guitar in his lap, bringing Brock back to their college years with his semi-serious rendition of Wonderwall. The fact Pepper's not groaning in annoyance but rather singing along is a testament to how much they've had already.

Brock peers at the empty chair next to him, the one Tony occupied before he retired to their room. He was still plagued by jet lag, and the bottle he'd had didn't help, so Brock let him go with a lingering goodnight kiss. Now he wishes he didn't; it would have been nice to cuddle up to someone as Bucky played a romantic song.

A silvery laugh brings him back to reality. "Bucky, stop it!" Wanda calls, and Brock turns the way her voice comes from. He can make out three silhouettes approaching them. "Look who I brought!"

They enter the light of the bonfire, and Brock immediately recognizes Wanda's twin, Pietro, a rising rock star. Each time Brock has seen Pietro, he was always accompanied by a groupie. They were men as often as women, but the one walking with him now isn't what Brock knows to be his type; he's taller and clearly older than him. Not that he minds.

"Finally!" Bucky exclaims, putting his guitar away and getting up to envelope Pietro in a bear hug. The two had become fast friends since they met over a year ago, making Brock a little jealous sometimes. "Where have you been? The parties were a drag without you!"

"We're still here!" Pepper reminds him, but her words are laced with laughter.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm the sun of your life." Pietro laughs, and Wanda giggles in amusement. The strange guy who came with them is smiling politely, though looking a little lost. "But enough about me—and this is probably the only time you ever hear me say it, so savor it! Where are the grooms?!"

Brock waves at him, unable to help a smile, and Pietro drops on the chair that used to be occupied by Tony and squeezes his shoulders with one arm. "There's one! How are you doing, you lucky, lucky guy? Where's the other one?"

"He's sleeping off the jet lag."

Pietro snorts. "I forgot how old this guy is. Somebody pass me a drink! And the guitar—it's time somebody actually cool played it, and by somebody cool I mean me. You—" He points at his groupie. "Don't just stand there, take a seat."

The man sits down in the sand by Pietro's chair. Pepper passes chilled bottles of wine to the twins—so maybe it is champagne after all—and Bucky hands Pietro the guitar before finding a chair for himself.

"Hey." Pietro elbows Brock. "I'm playing at your wedding reception, right? You didn't hire any other band?"

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry, Pietro," Brock deadpans. "I already hired Bucky. Tony and I are going to have our first dance to his Wonderwall—"

He bites his lip to keep himself from bursting into laughter when Pietro covers his face with one hand in defeat. Or maybe disapproval.

"I take a little offense!" Bucky says. "Just so you know."

"Of course you're hired," Brock amends. "Can you play Mendelssohn's Wedding March?"

"Wedding March?" Pepper asks, scrunching up her nose. "It's so... traditional."

"Nothing wrong with traditional," Pietro says. "And yeah, I happen to know how to play it. I  _ was _ gonna play it at Wanda's wedding, but it didn't work out."

" _ But _ you got too wasted to hold a guitar," Wanda corrects him, a note of hurt in her voice.

"Alrigh', alrigh', I already apologized so many times for that, could you please just let it go?" Pietro adjusts the guitar in his lap. "Okay, I'm in the mood for a little Nirvana, who's with me?"

A couple cheers sound, and Pietro starts playing a song that Brock's familiar with, but has never known the title of. 

"Showoff," Bucky mumbles into his ear when Pietro launches into a complicated solo that's definitely not a part of the song, and Brock grins.

They sing the chorus together, but it's Pepper who trails off first, her eyes tracking something over Brock's shoulder. Brock turns around, and his heart skips a beat even before his mind recognizes the tall, dark figure approaching them. Jack enters the glimmer of firelight surrounding them, and the sight of his bare chest, glistening with droplets of water, makes Brock's face feel even warmer. He smiles widely when he catches Brock staring.

"Hi," he says, bringing the attention of the rest of the group. "Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to steal Brock for a minute."

"Is something wrong, Jack?" Pepper asks seriously.

"No, of course not. I just need Brock's help with... something."

"Yeah, sure," Brock says quickly. 

Pietro whistles, and Brock can see him make a lewd gesture out of the corner of his eye. He gets up and grabs Jack's arm to pull him away from his embarrassing circle of friends, but it's already too late; if his face felt hot before, now it's burning.

"Sorry for Pietro," he says once they're out of earshot. "He's probably high. What did you want?"

Jack sighs. The farther they walk away from the bonfire, the darker it becomes, and Brock can't make out his expression. "It's probably nothing. It's that, I just got an email from Tony, and I wanted to check in with you, because—" Jack lights up his phone, making Brock realize he's been clenching it in his hand the entire time. "Well, because he's asking for a lot of changes."

Brock frowns. "What changes?"

They stop walking, and Jack opens the email to show him. They huddle over the screen, and Brock takes a sort of drunken pleasure in leaning into Jack’s space, feeling his body heat and his hair tickle his cheek.

"He wants to change the theme from sea to pearls," Jack explains, "Which changes the main color from blue to white. He also chose the cake to be Strawberry Champagne, and he sent me a picture of the design." He taps the attachment to open a picture of a simple white cake covered in pearls. It's pretty, but nowhere as grand as a sandcastle cake. Not to mention that…

"I had no idea about this." Brock looks up to meet Jack's worried gaze, closer than he expected. "He left the party earlier, I thought he was going to sleep..."

"I just got this email. All those decisions seemed off, so I came straight to you."

In a sudden moment of sour sobriety, Brock turns away from Jack and walks away a few steps, hiding his hands in the pockets of his shorts. He takes in deep breaths of salty air, looking out over the sea, its high and wild waves reflecting the orange light of the rising full moon. 

"Ignore it," he says finally. "We're sticking to what I chose. And I want the cake to be Blue Velvet. The sandcastle design."

"Brock... This is not the way."

Brock turns on his heel, looking at Jack with his eyebrows raised. 

"I've been in this business long enough to know what a strain wedding planning can put on a relationship," Jack continues. "I already witnessed a couple breakups over a cake and a venue." He smiles softly. "You don't want that to happen to you."

"But he went behind my back," Brock protests weakly. 

"I'm sure he had a reason for it. I'm not saying it's a good reason, but we won't know until you confront him about it. Look at things from his perspective. I'm sure he just wants what's best for you."

Brock sighs. "Yeah, that makes sense," he admits after a while. "But why didn't he ask me?"

Jack shrugs. "I don't know. But I know a break would do you both good. And I don't mean a party with all your friends." He nods in the direction of the bonfire. "Something like... spa day for couples. Where you can relax and have an honest conversation about what you want, just the two of you."

Brock nods thoughtfully. "Yeah. That sounds... wise. Thanks."

Jack beams. "No problem, that's why I'm here."

"What, you're also a couple counselor?"

Both snort. 

"It does come with territory," Jack admits. "If I wanna get paid a full amount, I need the wedding to actually happen."

"Right." 

Standing there, looking at Jack, his tension lifting and the wine he’s drunk going into his head again, Brock doesn't think about his wedding with Tony not happening. He thinks about his dream, about Jack's warm hands caressing his skin, his eager mouth exploring his body. He blinks and looks away. It happened before, just the two of them on the beach at night, naked and hungry for each other—

"Alright, that's all I wanted to tell you," Jack says, and Brock blinks away the memory he's been getting lost in. "Take that break and let me know when you're ready to go back to planning, okay?"

He's already turning away when Brock seizes his wrist. "Wanna stay?" he blurts out, a loopy smile pulling at his lips. "You're a part of my wedding party as well, you deserve to be here. And you should get to know Pietro, he's just arrived."

"I'm not exactly dressed for a party," Jack points out, looking down at his surfing shorts. "Or, well, at all."

"You're alright, you're among friends here." Brock pulls him by the wrist back towards the bonfire. Pietro has just started playing another song, a slow tune this time, and Wanda stands up to dance at the fire. "Come on."

Jack doesn't resist, and Brock grins triumphantly to himself.


	7. Solitude

Brock sighs deeply. Waves of hot water lick his skin as he stretches in the hot tub in his hotel room. He rests his head back and looks up at the dimly lit ceiling. The meditation music coming from the little speaker in the bathroom wall soothes his senses as well as the champagne he's drinking. He might have gone a little overboard with setting the mood with the lavender scented candles and palo santo burning in an earthen little bowl, but if he's getting himself sad drunk, he's going to do that in style.

He thinks back to the day before. He and Tony spent the entirety of it in the hotel's spa, simply relaxing before Brock felt ready to confront his fiance about changing the plans behind his back. Tony calmly admitted he didn't want their wedding to be anything less than Brock deserved, and that he wanted the changes to be a surprise. They reached a compromise—they kept the pearl cake design as well as the sea theme, even if Tony still thought it was too broad. They also agreed there should be no surprises from now on. Brock was surprised at how easily the problem was resolved. Jack had been right; Tony was just looking out for him, and Brock might have been a groomzilla, thinking only about what he wanted and not taking Tony's ideas under consideration. 

They ended the day with a celebration in the steam room where things got quite steamy before they continued in their hotel room. It was when Brock exited the bathroom after his cooling shower that Tony approached him wearing that face he always wore when he was about to go on another business trip and leave Brock to his own devices. Normally, Brock wouldn't be too bothered by that as he had gotten used to it, but it wasn't supposed to happen so close to their wedding. 

"It's just a quick little thing I need to do before our honeymoon, I promise," Tony said in a pleading tone. "You won't even notice that I'm gone."

But Brock noticed when Tony left their hotel room in the middle of the night, and he noticed when he woke up alone this morning. He was supposed to message Jack, updating him with everything they have decided, but he stripped and got drunk in his hot tub instead.

He takes a swig of his champagne as he thinks back to Jack. They had a lot of fun at their little beach party. Jack talked and joked with the others like he was the part of their friend group instead of an outsider. They spent the night sitting arm in arm on the sand and warming themselves both with the bonfire and each other's body heat. When the air became too cool for sitting outside to be pleasant, they all retired to their hotel rooms, and Jack walked him back to his. Brock might have had too much wine, or maybe he just pretended so Jack would lead him with an arm around his waist, he wasn't quite sure. It was just like the old times. Brock sighs at the sudden hit of nostalgia.

He turns his head towards the door when he hears knocking, but he doesn't move.

"Brock?" It's Pepper. "Are you there? We're late for the suit hunt!"

He considers responding for a moment, but doesn't find the energy to. The knocking resumes. 

"Brock?" The door cracks open and Pepper peeks in. "What are you doing?"

Brock shrugs, looking back at the ceiling. "Getting drunk."

He can almost hear the cogs in Pepper's head turning. "I'm not qualified enough for this," she mutters and closes the door.

Brock downs his glass and lets out a long sigh. It's actually nice to not worry about the wedding planning for once, to let somebody else take over for him. Just like Tony does to him all the time...

The door opens again, and someone walks in. Brock doesn't need to look to recognize Bucky's footsteps. There's a rustle of fabric, then his bare feet disrupt the water surface. He settles in right in front of a jet with a sigh.

"This is nice," he says, leaning his head back. "My room doesn't have a hot tub."

"That's because your room isn't a honeymoon suite."

Bucky hums thoughtfully, and for the next moment, they listen to the calm music in silence.

"Do you wanna tell me what happened?" Bucky asks as Brock dries his glass.

"It's clear what happened." Brock waves in the general direction of his hotel room behind the bathroom door. "Tony's gone."

Bucky hesitates. "For work?"

"Where else would he go?"

"But he'll be back for the wedding?"

"He said so," Brock says bitterly. "But I know by now he doesn't really know when he'll be done. Sometimes on time, sometimes something comes up. Trust me, I learned the hard way."

Bucky sighs in sympathy. "That sucks. But hey, it's not just some dinner or a banquet. It's his own wedding. If he really cares about you—and I know he does—he'll be back on time."

"Mmm," Brock answers noncommittally. He can hear Bucky move in the water and feel his gaze on his face, but still doesn't look up.

"Is that what caused this mood?" Bucky asks, and Brock sees him point at the champagne bottle out of the corner of his eye. "Don't get me wrong, it's a perfectly valid reason, but honestly? You've been acting weird since we got here. I'd say there's something else weighing on your mind."

Brock thinks it over. No matter how much champagne he's had, if it was perfect Pepper Potts here, he wouldn't tell her a thing about his struggles. But Bucky's been his friend since college, and he witnessed various of his ups and downs. What's one more?

So Brock takes a deep breath, straightens up in his seat, and confesses, "Jack and I, we fucked."

Bucky goes still for a moment, complete with his breath, then he lets it out in a sharp gasp. "When?"

"Back in college. We were, uh, fuckbuddies. Maybe something more than that. It was primarily about sex, but we liked just being around each other, too."

Bucky says nothing as that revelation sinks in, and Brock finally rolls his head to the side to see his reaction. He's staring at the water surface with his brows furrowed deep in thought. Brock lets him digest that information in peace.

"So," Bucky begins slowly, "That's why you spent so much time with him." He lets out a nervous laugh. "And to think I was jealous!"

Brock raises his eyebrows at that. "Were you?"

"Yeah," Bucky admits with a note of embarrassment in his voice. "You kept bailing out on our plans just to see him. I thought you found yourself a new friend."

"Sorry about that." Brock is; he never meant to be a shitty friend just to get dick, especially not to Bucky. 

"Why hadn't you just told me?"

Brock holds Bucky's gaze for an entire second before looking away, like he's about to confess a sin he's ashamed of. "Because that wasn't the plan, was it?" Bucky just stares at him in confusion, so Brock clarifies, "The promise we made to each other. That we'd find rich husbands and leave our old lives of being poor behind. You were already going out with Sam, and Jack... Jack sold ice cream by the beach."

Bucky continues to stare at him, and Brock suddenly feels uncomfortable in the hot tub. He wriggles in his seat, trying to find a better position and avoiding to look at his friend, who's opening and closing his mouth as he decides how to comment on what he just heard. Finally, he just gives Brock a sympathetic look.

"Brock, that was _my_ plan. _My_ promise to myself. It didn't have to be yours."

"But I liked that plan," Brock mutters, not liking one bit how pitiful his voice sounds. 

He gives up on finding a comfortable position and gets out of the hot tub, spilling water onto the floor. The air in the steam-filled bathroom is too hot and too heavy, and he walks over to the covered window to open it wide, letting in the sunlight. The candlelight shudders in the warm wind. Too drunk to care he's giving Bucky an eyeful of his bare ass, he leans in on the windowsill and takes a deep breath.

"I wish you had told me," Bucky says. "Because now it turns out I hired your ex-fuckbuddy to plan your wedding." He lets out a disbelieving snort. "What a mess."

Brock hums in acknowledgement. Below him, the hotel's guests lounge around a big pool. Somewhere above him, Tony's reclining in his airplane seat, reading or listening to music. And further to the south, Jack's sitting in his stuffy office, waiting to hear from him...

"Is that what it is?" he hears Bucky's voice, much closer than he expected. Lost in thought, he hasn't even heard him exit the hot tub and approach the window. "You're having second thoughts?"

_No_ , he wants to say. He doesn't want to have second thoughts. He wants to marry Tony. And yet, he can't stop thinking about Jack. Can't help but wonder what his life would be like now if he and Tony never met.

When he turns to look at Bucky, he finds him watching him with a concerned look. He sighs.

"I don't know," he admits. "It's just weird. When I'm with Tony, everything is perfect, and I want to spend my life with him. But..." He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "But nothing. Forget it. I'm being stupid."

Bucky smiles in understanding. "Look, I never told you that, but I had second thoughts, too. Yeah," he adds when Brock raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Right before the wedding, I wasn't sure it was a good idea to marry my Mr. Tall, Dark, Rich, and Handsome. It's a big decision that'll irreversibly change your life. And it's even worse for you now, because you reunited with your ex and have all those good memories associated with him rushing back. But don't forget, it's not an accident you're wearing this." He touches Brock's golden engagement ring. "In just a few weeks, you're gonna go on a honeymoon a married man, and you'll leave Jack behind, like the memory he is. And you'll wonder how you could ever have any doubts." 

Brock mulls it over. "Yeah," he says slowly, thoughtfully. "I'm sure you're right."

"Of course I am. Just keep your eyes on the prize, and everything will be okay. Speaking of, the girls have already gone dresses hunting, but we can still go and look for that suit for you, just the two of us. Personally, I could do without Pepper acting like her opinion is the only one that matters. What do you say?"

Brock finds himself nodding. "Good idea."

Jack will survive another day without hearing from him. 


	8. Risqué Behavior

Brock swirls his colorful, glittery drink. He's not sure what's in it, but it gets the job done, and it's all that matters.

He reclines in his seat in the VIP lounge of the glitzy venue Stark and Pietro chose for his bachelor party. Or, well, Brock's sure it's all Stark's doing while Pietro's idea was the strip club they visited earlier. As the biggest party animals in their group, they both volunteered to plan his party, despite having vastly different styles. Brock's curious how they managed to collaborate on this, but given all the recent drama, he's glad he wasn't there to witness it.

He's alone at the table, watching his already drunk friends going wild on the dance floor. Pietro's dancing with his groupie, Stark with Pepper, and Bucky with Sam. Brock scans the room, packed with sweaty people, until he spies Jack standing at the end of the long line to the bar. His hand holding the glass tightens, and he takes a sip. There might be gin in it. Mainly it just tastes sweet.

Three hours ago, after Pietro took off the black bag of his head, Brock was swarmed with his friends at the entrance to the strip club. Seeing Jack among them was quite a shock. To his credit, Bucky looked just as panicked as Brock felt, and as their oblivious group of friends entered the club, he quickly and quietly explained he had no idea Pietro invited him.

It shouldn't bother him—Jack was nothing more than his wedding planner after all—but being together here, in this club, makes him feel nostalgic. Just ten years ago, when he was a teenager dreaming about making it big, he never thought he'd feel at home in an exclusive venue. But he spent his adolescence in clubs like this one, looking for a rich husband that would rescue him from poverty. 

He met Jack in a club like this one.

It was a chance meeting; Jack didn't frequent exclusive clubs as he, much like Brock, could barely afford to drink in them. He was there to celebrate his friend's birthday. It didn't stop him from seducing Brock with the confidence of a person who was right where he belonged. If Brock had known right away about his financial status, he'd have never given him a chance. By the time he found out about a week later, he was already too taken with his good looks, sense of humor, and passion for life to give him up.

Brock shakes his head to himself and tears his eyes away from Jack's form. Dancing in the middle of the dance floor, Wanda draws his attention. Her hair, newly dyed shades of violet, blue and turquoise, makes it hard to look away. She was very excited to make it match his wedding theme and couldn't wait to be his 'mermaid' (as opposed to groomsmaid). She even tried to convince Pepper to dye her hair, too, to her absolute horror. Seeing how much joy it brought her, Brock couldn't not be happy for her.

But now, it's something else that makes her so joyful. In the arms of her husband, she looks like the queen of the world; the world she doesn't notice, because she only has eyes for him. Brock sighs wistfully, not only because he misses Tony; sitting here alone, watching her, makes him wonder if he's ever felt the way she looks with him.

He jolts when Pietro drops onto the seat beside him.

"Why're ya lookin' at my sister like that?" he asks, shouting over the music.

Brock looks at him and shrugs. Even if it wasn't too loud to hear his own thoughts, he's not sure he could form them into a coherent answer.

"Aren't you enjoying the party?" Pietro follows up. "You've been down in the dumps all night."

"I guess I miss Tony," Brock says finally.

Pietro rolls his eyes. "How can you lovebirds be simultaneously cute and a pain in the ass? I hope I'll never fall in love." He takes something out of his pocket and hands it to Brock. Brock takes a look at a pill in a plastic bag. "Ditch the drink and take this. You're here to have fun and let loose, not miss your boyfriend."

"Fiance," Brock corrects automatically, considering the pill. He's not a big fan of drugs, but Pietro's right—it is his bachelor's party, but he's been acting like a guest at a funeral. He puts the round, yellow pill in his mouth and washes it down with his glittery drink. Pietro slaps him on the back, grinning.

"Have fun!" he yells over the music, then stands up to join his groupie on the dance floor.

A moment later, just when Brock finishes his drink, Jack returns to their table in the company of a server carrying a tray of colorful shots in apothecary style vials. She sets it down, and his friends appear seemingly out of nowhere around him, cheering. Each takes a vial, and Stark yells, "Cheers!" before they clink and down them.

Brock doesn't count how many he has before going out onto the dance floor, but he knows the tray is empty when they all leave the table. He's not sure if it's Pietro's pill or the company of his friends around him, but he finally starts feeling lighter. The bass thrums through his body as he moves to the beat among the crowd, and for a moment, he forgets it all about Tony and the stress of wedding planning.

He dances with Wanda for a while, then in a circle with all the guys. The music slows in rhythm with his heartbeat, and his friends disperse, leaving him alone in the crowd. Or so he thinks until Jack taps his shoulder. Brock spins around and smiles up at him. Jack leans in, the fresh scent of his cologne wafting around Brock.

"Having fun?" he asks, his lips moving against Brock's ear sending an electric shock through his body. 

Brock exhales heavily, nodding. Jack leans back, and without a second thought, Brock presses against him. His whole body tingles in response, like it's in tune to Jack's. Jack hesitates before resting a hand on Brock's hip, and it becomes the center of Brock's world. They look into each other's eyes and break into wide smiles. It's like they've been waiting for this moment ever since they laid eyes on each other again. When Brock rests his head on Jack's shoulder, and Jack's arm shields him from everything else around them, it feels like it's just the two of them and the music that's replaced the blood in their veins. Jack's watching him like all his wishes came true, and it makes Brock's heart flutter.

The song changes to a faster one, but they come to a standstill. When it feels like Jack's about to move away, Brock grabs two fistfuls of his sweaty dress shirt and pulls him in to meet his mouth.

Though tender and tentative at first, the kiss feels like a firework, and the colorful lights flashing above them compound this impression. Jack's lips are warm and soft, and as Brock swipes his tongue over them, he tastes cranberry vodka. The inside of his mouth is even sweeter and hotter. The music's too loud to know for sure, but Brock thinks he hears him groan.

It's Brock who pulls away this time, and Jack who grips him harder.

"Wanna get some air?" he asks, and without waiting for a response, he takes Brock's arm and steers him away from the dance floor and towards the club's exit. 

Once they're out on the street, gasping for the cool air, Jack's warm fingers fitting perfectly between Brock's, Brock forgets all about his bachelor party and the friends they're leaving behind. All that matters is Jack's joyful laugh, his touch and smoldering gaze. 

They find their way to the beach where they used to spend almost all their free time together. Grabbing onto each other and grinning against each other's mouths, they stumble into the sea. Brock yelps when the cold water soaks his pants. Jack laughs as his strong arms keep him from falling over. His body presses against him, firm and hot, making Brock swiftly forget about the cold.

They find each other's mouths again, and their fingers fumble with the buttons of each other's dress shirts. Brock pulls it roughly off Jack's shoulders and he hears the fabric rip over the crash of the waves around them. Jack groans low in his throat, the sound making Brock's spine tingle, and presses his erection against Brock's hip.

It's the feel of it, hot and hard and real, that sobers Brock up a little. It hits him he's half naked, up to his waist in cold water, shivering in the cool breeze, making out with his wedding planner just a week before getting married.

Dazed, he pushes Jack away and turns around without another glance at him, his heart hammering in panic as he wades back towards the beach.

"Brock!" Jack calls belatedly. Brock doesn't stop, doesn't look over his shoulder. Jack doesn't call again, doesn't follow him. 

Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Wicked Game by Chris Isaak.


End file.
